The Slowest Suicide
by KisaandYaoiBoyKenta
Summary: Eventual SxJ Yaoi... Katsuya slowly decends into a world of drugs, desperately trying to find some acceptance from his father, will someone save him before these addictions eat him alive? Uses songs by System Of A Down


Wow, it's 3:30 am and here I am writting another Jou-fic. Lucky for you I have the ENTIRE weekend to work on this and "Cupid's the One to Blame" (my other Jou/Seto fic). Yep, no work, no parents and free run of the coffee machine. This reminds me of that time me and my friends stayed up 3 days straight playing monopoly. Ah, good times. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and read my other fics as well. I DO planning on finishing every one of them over the summer because I'll be working on a "need only" schedule. It's complicated...  
  
Disclaimer: The authoress carries less than $20 cash, therefore she doesn't own Yugioh or System of a Down's songs. Woe is me.  
  
THIS STORY IS NOT TO PROMOTE DRUG USE OR GLORIFY IT. THIS IS AN EXAMPLE OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF USAGE. IF ANYTHING, IT SHOULD DISCOURAGE THE USE OF ANY DRUG, WHETHER OR NOT MENTIONED HERE. FOR MORE INFO ON THE EFFECTS OF DRUGS PLEASE GO TO: THAT IS WHERE I GOT MY INFORMATION.  
  
The Slowest Suicide  
  
Chapter One  
  
"Toxicity"  
  
*Conversion, software version 7.0,  
  
Looking at life through the eyes of a tire hub,  
  
Eating seeds as a past time activity,  
  
The toxicity of our city, of our city*  
  
Katsuya would spend most of his waking and sleeping hours in his room. The one with the bare walls and the thin matress on the tile floor. With nothing more than a sheet and the stuffed REBD that Yuugi had given him for his 16th birthday to sustain him through the cold nights. There were many of those, freezing hours in the night, a chill running through him at the slightest noise. He knew that the man whom he'd called father could come in at any moment, in another drunken fit, and begin the routine of abuse, both physical and mental. It didn't scare him as much anymore as it did sadden him. Because there was that side to his 'Daddy' that people rarely saw. The brief minutes bettween getting home from work and hitting the first beer, the sobriety. Thoese were the times his father actually showed that underlying emotion of care for Katsuya. And it hurt to know that it could never be for more than thoese few minutes that he actually enjoyed being with his father.  
  
There was so much depth to the blonde haired, honey eyed, smartass that if anyone tried to get to thoese hidden emotions, they'd probably drown, or go insane. It was hard to tell which was worse. So he kept up the facade. He kept it very well , to the point where even his friends were convinced that somehow his homelife had improved. And as long as he continued the act it sort have had helped. He now didn't fear the man who hit him. He cried for him because he knew that his father too had a deeper, more emotional side. He wished Daddy would be that way all the time but alas that wish was simply that, one of many he harbored inside himself.  
  
*New, what do you own the world?  
  
How do you own disorder, disorder,  
  
Now, somewhere between the sacred silence,  
  
Sacred silence and sleep,  
  
Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep,  
  
Disorder, disorder, disorder.*  
  
Of course, habits were to be made from this situation. The bad kind. Although he never touched the syringes or the unnamed baggies that littered his parent's room, he did get a hold of a whole mess of other addictions. Cigarettes at first, it almost seemed natural in the neighborhood he was in. So did his taking up of alcohol.  
  
He never did take a liking to beer, though he would drink it if nothing else was around. He especially enjoyed cola-mixed drinks. Rum,vodka, even the occasional amaretto if it was lying around. Sometimes, when Daddy brought home another woman, she would bring something extravagant, like Cognac. He loved the taste of that overly alcoholic wine. And, through that new found taste he experianced new addictions. None too shocking, it was these women who conviced his father to allow him to sample such things, for which he didn't know whether to hate or thank them.  
  
*More wood for their fires, loud neighbors,  
  
Flashlight reveries caught in the headlights of a truck,  
  
Eating seeds as a past time activity,  
  
The toxicity of our city, of our city*  
  
Katsuya's first 'real' drug was pot, much like everyone else who was experimenting. He'd been drinking rum and cola in his beloved bedroom as his father and another girl were going at it in the other bedroom. He tried to drown out the sounds of sex with his drunk fuzziness, to little success. There was a knock on the door and, without waiting, a lady barged in, looking at Katsuya with a grin. He raised a brow at her, setting his plastic cup on the floor.  
  
"Can I help you?" He asked.  
  
"Maybe" She said, shutting the door. "Is it okay if I smoke in here man? I don't want any smells leaking outside, ya know?"  
  
"No, actually I wouldn't."  
  
"Well, like the backdoor is all busted 'n shit so, PLEASE... I need a fix so bad."  
  
Katsyua rolled his eyes and sighed. "Sure, why not..."  
  
"Thanks." The woman said, ploping on the floor and pulling out a small tin can from her jacket. She set out everything: rolling papers, lighter, and an all too familiar looking plastic baggie.  
  
"Pot." Katsuya acknowledged it, sipping from his cup again.  
  
The girl smirked. "So they are teachin' you somethin' in those God-awful schools!" She picked the gum she'd been chewing out of her mouth and set it on the lid of the can.  
  
Katsuya watched as she rolled up a joint, with an alcohol-glazed curiosity. She lit up and dragged long from it before blowing leftover smoke into the room. The smell of it was, exotic to say the least. Sure, he'd smelt it before, imenating from Dad's room, but to actually see how it was done made it somewhat new and intriguing. She must have noticed his interest because she stopped mid-drag and held it out to him.  
  
"Want a hit?" she offered, blowing smoke out of the corner of her mouth.  
  
Katsuya leaned back a little apprehensively. "I- I don't know how..."  
  
She smiled. "Just take it. Welcome to tokin' 101."  
  
"Uhh..." He wasn't quite sure he even wanted to smoke but he took it anyway, holding it between his index and thumb like she had done.  
  
"Okay, its sorta just like when you do cigs... You -have- smoked them right?"  
  
He nodded, looking at the joint a little nervously. "Well, like I said man. Just don't inhale it the first few times, take it in and blow right back out, you'll get a nice buzz off the first hit bein' a newbie and all."  
  
His mind went to the first thing she'd said. "First -few- times? I'm just doin' it once."  
  
"That's what you say now, man."  
  
And with those words of encouragement, Katsuya took his first hit of weed.(1)  
  
*New, what do you own the world?  
  
How do you own disorder, disorder,  
  
Now, somewhere between the sacred silence,  
  
Sacred silence and sleep,  
  
Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep,  
  
Disorder, disorder, disorder.*  
  
After he had gotten into weed (a habit supported by his Dad's friends who'd supply him if he kept quiet about the 'other' drugs they did in his room), a few problems arose. They were called Yuugi, Anzu and Honda.  
  
It was only a matter of days after he got into the habit that they'd noticed the signs that something was wrong. He came to school at random times, eyes almost always blood shot and a full supply of waterbottles for he'd always seemed thirsty. He was having trouble just talking to them, fidgetting around and spacing out. When he was asked simple questions in class his answer was either "uhh..." or "I dunno...". It worried them deeply.  
  
He could see that his friends were worried so he decided to explain what he'd been doing. Maybe he could get help to get off of it. The last thing he need was to lose his friends to a bad habit. It was decided by him on Friday night that the next Monday he would tell them all just what was going on.  
  
*New, what do you own the world?  
  
How do you own disorder, disorder,  
  
Now, somewhere between the sacred silence,  
  
Sacred silence and sleep,  
  
Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep,  
  
Disorder, disorder, disorder.*  
  
Saturday afternoon caught him doing laundry as his father slept the day away on the couch. He crept by the man, carrying a overloaded basket of jeans to the washer. He made it outside to the old shed that was converted to a laundry room to save space in the small apartment's backyard. As he loaded the jeans into the filling machine, he felt a hand grab his shoulder, causing him to imeadiately tense.  
  
"What're you doin'?" came the permenantly slurred voice of his father.  
  
"I'm doing laundry, Dad." Katsuya replied as calm as possible.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Katsuya's mind slipped for a moment, the drug hangover taking ahold in the answer.  
  
"Uhhh..."  
  
"You've been smokin'..Right? That's what Leslie told me."  
  
He gulped. "Um..yea, I have..."  
  
The hand left his shoulder and he braced himself for the iminent blow. But, instead, his father whirled him around so they were facing eachother, holding onto his son's shoulders.  
  
"Only here."  
  
Katsuya looked a little confused so his father tried to explain further.  
  
"Whatever shit you do, do it only here. 'Kay?"  
  
He nodded, a little taken aback by the actions. His father let go of him and stumbled back into the livingroom.  
  
Katsuya sighed and leaned against the washing machiene. Did I just have a -moment- with Dad?, he thought, running a hand through his hair. For a second, a mere second, he and his Dad had bonded, though it was over drugs, for once, they had something in common that didn't tear them apart. They were users.  
  
"Damn." Jou mummbled out loud.  
  
*When I became the sun,  
  
I shone life into the man's hearts,  
  
When I became the sun,  
  
I shone life into the man's hearts.*  
  
That night another -friend- popped into his room, with his supply as well as her own. Her's was another familiar item he'd seen in his Dad's room. Bottles and syringes. Heroine.  
  
He watched her as he smoked. She unwrapped the needle and poked it through the top of the small bottle, drawing out the liquid drug. She set it aside and pulled out a band. She wrapped it around her arm, above the elbow and waited for the vein to puff. As she waited she looked at him.  
  
"You want a shooter?"  
  
He blinked, blowing smoke off to the side. "I dunno." His mind was suddenly at war with him. His common sence was telling him that he'd promised himself on Monday to give up on these habits. That he wanted to be clean. But another, more emotional side of him said that this is also a thing Dad did. If pot bonded them earlier maybe doing another drug like his father did would get him even more of that attention he starved for.  
  
"So?" The girl asked.  
  
He nodded. "Feed me."  
  
"Aight." (2)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
(1) We've seen what weed does enough on TV and Movies. I don't want the fic to focus on what you feel when you do it (I've never used mind you), but more of the consequences. (2) Same as 1.  
  
One more thing, just because I gave the girl a name doesn't mean she's a main charrie. ^^; I just needed to give her one to make it work.  
  
Review plz so I know to continue or not. 


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